


Ensign Lance

by Thistlerose



Category: Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Male Friendship, Shippy Gen, Sledding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in 2000.  Set during their academy years, well before any of them had ever heard of Arus or Voltron, this is the story of how Keith, Sven, and Lance became close friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Keith and Sven have girlfriends in this (original characters) but I'm still classifying it as gen, since the focus is really on the guys and their friendship. When I first wrote it - thirteen years ago, so please be kind - I'd intended it as a sort of prologue to my "Daughters of Arus" series. Before posting it here, I've decided to rework it a little - mostly by changing the names of a few characters - so it can stand alone.

Snow had been falling heavily over Ride Valley since midnight. By ten the next morning, the transit authorities had shut down the aboveground monorails and cancelled or diverted all but the most essential shuttle flights. By noon, most offices, shops, and grade schools were closed, and by evening, staff members at the Academy and the nearby Sterne Spaceport had been asked to keep their children home from daycare the following day as well.

Naturally, though, _classes_ at the Academy were expected to continue as scheduled. In the dormitories located in the northeastern corner of Sterne, students were awake, gulping down coffee and soft drinks, poring over texts and flight manuals, groaning over half-finished papers and exam notes.

Some were, anyway.

Keith Hawkins was. Hunched over his computer in his dorm on the fourth floor of Williams Hall, he had no interest in the gorgeous winter landscape outside his window or the party planning that was going on loudly beyond his closed door. 

Keith clenched his jaw and glared at the computer screen, willing everyone to be quiet or just go away so he could concentrate. There wasn't any point in trying to chase them off. Firstly, he'd be told that he was torturing himself needlessly, because classes _had_ to be cancelled tomorrow. Secondly, because he half wanted it, they might actually succeed in convincing him and that would not be good because he was still eight pages shy of a paper, and the thing was due tomorrow morning.

A small blue box flashed onto his screen, indicating an incoming message. Mildly startled, because he thought he'd shut Messager down, he clicked his acceptance. The signature on the upper right corner of the box belonged to his girlfriend, Maria.

_Keith_ , she written, _forget the paper. We're all watching movies in H-Dub._

He bit his lip, sighed, and typed back, _Can't. Have to finish this, plus prepare presentation._ He hesitated, then added, _Don't you have work due tomorrow, too?_  
He was flipping through his history textbook when her reply appeared.

_Keith, don't be a stick in the mud. They'll cancel classes, trust me. Parker's taking bets on how long they'll string us out. Come on. We're watching Star Wars._

Chuckling, he typed back:

_Are you trying to lure me to the Dark Side?_

_Yes_ , Maria replied.

Keith gazed longingly at the door. It seemed the crowd in the hallway had grown. One voice rose sharply above the others, and then there was a bark of laughter followed by guffaws and whistles.

_Keith?_

_I'm here,_ he typed.

_That's the problem. You should be HERE. Don't say "but the paper." The fact that you're responding at all suggests you'd muuuuch rather be with us._

_I'm not disputing that,_ he typed, exasperated. _But I have to finish this before class tomorrow._

_There won't BE classes tomorrow. Look out the window! But if you want to be obstinate…fine. If you change your mind, we're watching all nine. First three w/o sound so we can make up our own dialogue. Good fun. Plus there'll be popcorn. Plus there'll be ME. XOXO._

Keith closed Messager and glared at the screen. He drummed his fingers on his desk. Out in the hallway, someone – probably Cliff Irwin, judging by the accent – said, "Mate, I'm _not_ disparaging Carrie Fisher's brass bikini, but _Empire_ 's still the best, hands _down._ "

Keith ground his teeth, snatched up his history textbook again, and buried his nose in it. A few minutes later, the group in the corridor started to drift away, probably toward Haven-Wesley – or H-Dub, as it was known to most students – for their movie marathon. With a sigh that was half relief, half regret, Keith relaxed in his chair a little.

He didn't mean to be a stick in the mud. He had every intention of joining Maria and the rest of their friends at some point that evening. Preferably in time with _Empire_ , because he agreed wholeheartedly with Cliff. But he had to make sure that this was done first. There _would_ be classes tomorrow. There were _always_ classes, regardless of the weather – a fact that seemed not to have registered with anyone but him. 

He'd managed to type another three pages and a rough outline for his talk when someone knocked on his door. Secretly eager for a small break, hoping it was Maria, he leaned back, stretched, and called, "It's unlocked."

He was somewhat surprised when the door slid open and two big hazel eyes blinked at him from behind a fall of shaggy brown hair. 

"Lance?" he said.

The first-year's face broke into a wide, slightly mischievous grin. "What're you doing, Keith?"

"Getting a paper ready for tomorrow."

Lance screwed up his face in a look of utter derision. "Tonight? What for? There won't be classes tomorrow."

"You know," Keith said, lacing his fingers behind his neck, "I think all of you have this idea that if you pretend something hard enough, it will happen. Don't count on it, Lance. They don't cancel classes here. They haven't since I started here. My uncle says they haven't since _he_ was a student, about fifteen years ago."

"And it never occurred to you," Lance said dryly, "that he might just be saying that to keep you on your toes, so you don't bring disgrace and dishonor to the name of Hawkins? Anyway," he went on, before Keith could make a remark, "have you looked outside lately? It's a blizzard! I've never seen it snow like this. We should go sledding."

Keith shook his head and sat up. "'It's a blizzard, let's go sledding'? Good one, Lance."

"I'm serious." He came up behind Keith and leaned heavily against his chair until it tilted so far back that Keith had to grab for the edge of the desk. "Who cares about the socioeconomic effects of the Borellian-Motrassian Wars?"

"A lot of people," said Keith. "The Borellians, our allies, for instance. A lot of people think the effects of those wars could have long-reaching repercussions such as—"

"Yeah?" Lance reached over Keith's shoulder and plucked up the history text. He began to flip through the pages. Because he'd stepped away from the chair, Keith paid him little mind. 

"Awful lot of notes in this book," Lance observed, moving about the room. He stopped by the window. "You know," he said, "I know you'd rather go sledding with us."

"Us?" Keith asked absently, his gaze flickering over the last page he'd written.

"Sven, too."

"Ha! The day the two of you plan anything together will be the day…classes are cancelled at the Academy."

"Prophetic words," said Lance in an ominous tone.

Keith laughed again, remembering the day he and Sven Eriksson, his closest friend at the Academy, had first met Lance Cahill, who was two years their junior. It had been an inauspicious meeting, to say the least. One day back in early autumn, Keith and Sven had stumbled into H-Dub, looking to do nothing more than unwind after a particularly grueling day of classes. They hadn't even had time to order sandwiches, when a ruckus started by the pool tables. A group of first-years had gotten themselves into a brawl, and one kid – a short, skinny boy with a mop of brown hair and a battered leather jacket – seemed to be in the middle of it. Keith had just run eight miles and only wanted his sandwich, a cold drink, and a shower. But fighting was strictly forbidden at the Academy. 

"Hey!" Keith had yelled, albeit hoarsely. "Cut it out."

The fight had gone on, and Sven had muttered, "I don't think they heard you. I don't think that one cares," he'd added, pointing at the kid in the leather jacket, who'd just been tossed – hard – onto the pool table, where he'd continued to kick and swear.

"They're going to break something. They're going to get in trouble." Keith had sighed. "Five against one isn't fair."

So he and Sven had run to break up the fight. That had been the intention, anyway. Sven – tall and imposing – had swept aside the five kids while Keith had gone to the aid of the one in the leather jacket. Maybe it was battle rage, Keith had mused later, or maybe it was Lance being Lance. The kid hadn't seen a rescuer – just another enemy. Once on his feet, he'd shoved Keith aside with surprising strength, spun about, and swung with his fist. 

Sven still liked to tell people he'd gotten the scar in a duel. "A duel with a Drul," Lance quipped, until Sven told him to stop.

Lance, now leaning against the door and looking slightly petulant, was saying, "Anyway, Sven forgave me. We're all friends. Come on. He's waiting downstairs."

"So, the two of you can go," said Keith. "If you're both so certain you can fake it through classes tomorrow, be my guest. Just go away and let me work."

Lance smiled. "'Fraid I can't let you do that. You don't have any choice."

Keith was losing patience. "And why is that?"

"Well…I kind of have your book!" And with that, Lance threw the door open and bolted into the hall, laughing, "Meet you at the Arch!"

"Damn." Keith bolted out of his chair, nearly knocking it over, and charged after Lance. He found the hallway deserted. "Lance!" he shouted.

The first-years were quartered in another part of the building, accessible down the stairs and through the lobby, so that was where he headed, wondering if Lance was really dumb enough to stash the book in his own room. _More likely he'd toss it out a window,_ he thought, doubling his pace.

The lobby was brightly lit, and noisy. He didn't see Lance. Trying to peer over heads, he didn't watch where he was walking and accidentally bumped into his younger cousin, Jeff Parker. 

"Keith!" exclaimed Jeff, quickly tucking something into his heavy coat. "So, the hermit emerges. Joining us at H-Dub?"

"No," said Keith. "Actually, I'm looking for—" But his curiosity and sense of responsibility got the better of him. "What are you hiding?"

"Hiding?" Jeff echoed innocently.

"In your jacket. Didn't I just see—"

"Oi, Jeff!" It was Cliff, pushing his way through the crowd. When he reached them, he said, "Did you get the—" Then he noticed Keith, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised. "Bugger," he muttered.

"It's not illegal," Jeff said, which did not allay Keith's suspicions.

"Not on most Federation worlds," Cliff put in. "Well, some, anyway. Maybe one or two. We'd better be going, Jeff."

Keith decided that he did not want to know what they were up to. Not just then, anyway. As they began to back away, he said, "Listen, did either of you see Lance Cahill come through here about a minute ago?"

Jeff shook his head. 

"Sorry, mate," said Cliff. "But Sven's over there." He pointed. 

An ally would be a good thing to have, Keith thought as he shouldered his way to the opposite end of the lobby. "Sven!" he shouted when he spotted him. "Hey, Sven!"

At the sound of his name, Sven looked up. His cheeks were flushed, and his mouth twitched with annoyance. Keith halted, chagrined, as he noticed the girl cuddled close beside Sven on the sofa that ran along the wall. Her black hair was disheveled and her face was as pink as Sven's. Keith considered hiding behind another student as Sven scanned the crowd, eyes narrowed. Instead, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and moved into his best friend's line of sight.

The look of distaste dissolved when Sven saw who had called to him, but Keith still wished he'd kept his mouth shut. The girl twisted her hair nervously.

"Sven," Keith began. "I interrupted you. Uh – sorry." The girl was familiar, he thought. He might have had a class with her last semester, or the semester before that. She was spectacularly pretty, but then, Sven always did manage to get the best-looking girls. Except Maria. 

"Eh…Keith?" Sven was looking at him curiously.

Suddenly, Keith placed her. "Intro to Xenobotany! With Professor Patel." He couldn't remember her name, though.

"Keith, this is Aiko Sato," said Sven. "Aiko, this is—"

"Keith Hawkins," she said. "I know. You're the student everyone's told to emulate. Your presentation on Lyran roses put us all to shame."

Her tone had a half-teasing note, but Keith's chest swelled slightly. 

"Eh, Keith?" Sven said again, after a moment. "Was there something you wanted?"

He obviously had plans with Aiko. "So, you couldn't have agreed to go sledding with Lance!"

Sven looked at Aiko, then back at Keith, his head cocked. "I haven't even seen Lance since lunch. Why?"

"Oh, he tried to recruit me, a few minutes ago, to go sledding, and he said you were in on it." He paused, but Sven continued to regard him blankly. "I take it you're not."

Sven shook his head and leaned forward, unwinding his arm from Aiko's slender shoulders.

Keith went on, a little sheepishly, a little angrily, "He stole my book."

At that, Sven cracked a grin. "It would have to be something like that, to get you out of your room."

Keith bristled. "I'm not _that_ \--"

"You do have a reputation," Aiko said. 

"It's true, Keith," Sven added, leaning back against the sofa cushions and smiling more broadly. Jeff Parker was daring first-years to lure you out. The most elaborate, successful scheme was going to win…something."

"Jeff and Lance should team up," Keith said irritably. "And leave me alone. Are there _any_ rules my cousin doesn't plan on breaking tonight? But I guess that explains Cliff practically yelling about brass bikinis outside my door. Was that really the best he could come up with?"

Aiko smiled up at him too, and brushed absently at a fold of Sven's sweater. "The girls in suite 511 were going to streak the hallway, but I think they chickened out."

"Anyway," said Sven, "it wouldn't have worked."

"Ha," said Keith. "Ha. Ha."

"It's true," Sven insisted, his dark eyes wide and sincere. He glanced at Aiko, who nodded encouragingly. "Then someone else suggested…ah—" He floundered so miserably that Aiko could not deny him an adoring smile and a quick kiss on the cheek. "It was bad," he assured Keith. "Very, very bad."

Keith flopped onto the sofa beside Sven. "Funny, guys. Not that I'd put much past my cousin, but—" He glanced at them curiously. "Am I really that bad?"

"Worse, my friend," said Sven.

Keith propped his chin up on his fist and gazed ruefully into space. "I suppose the library's closed."

"Probably," said Aiko.

"Anyway, all my notes are in _that_ book."

"Well, Keith," she said, "it looks like you're stuck. Why not go sledding with Lance? You look like you could use a break."

Keith frowned, but Sven only laughed at her playful tone. _He must really like her,_ Keith thought, somewhat aggrieved that he should only now be finding out about his best friend's new attachment. Or maybe, he thought, he'd just been too busy lately to notice.

"It's not like you'll be out all night," Sven said. "Lance gets an idea and he has to act right away. Once he realizes how cold it is, he'll end the adventure. And you can finish your paper. Even though there won't be classes tomorrow."

"Well…" Keith began reluctantly.

"Oh, go." Aiko leaned across Sven's knees and gave Keith's shoulder a playful shove. "The fact that you're sitting here debating tells me you'd much rather be doing anything besides working!"

"Fine," Keith said with a resigned sigh. He glanced at Sven. "But you're coming with me."

"I am not."

"I'm not going out into a blizzard alone with that lunatic."

Actually, it did not take long to convince Sven. Once Keith remembered that Sven too had spent the last few days cooped up inside the dorm and academic buildings, he knew which card to play. And Aiko proved surprisingly helpful when she leaned forward and whispered something in Sven's ear – something that caused him to blush furiously. Keith thought he caught the words "warm you up" and "afterward" and possibly "hot bath," and then he tried very hard not to listen.

A short while later, they were both pulling on parkas, hats, and gloves, and shoving feet into fleece-lined boots. "Where is Lance, anyway?" Sven's voice came from the depths of his hood.

"He mentioned the Arch," Keith replied, winding a thick woolen scarf around his neck.

"It'll be a good break," Sven assured him, and clapped him on the back – which Keith barely felt through multiple layers of heavy clothing. "I haven't been sledding for a long time."

As they made their way down the stairs toward the outer door, Keith paused to glance out the window. The snow was falling as heavily as before, and he could make out only the faintest sparks that were the lighted windows across the way. "Maybe they really will cancel classes tomorrow," he said, forcing conviction into his tone. 

The red brick Arch stood at the entrance to the quadrangle. A road, now buried under at least three feet of snow, ran past it. If you followed the road east, you'd reach the library and other academic buildings. If you went west, you'd eventually reach the town and the spaceport. If you crossed the road and kept going, you'd get to the athletic fields. Beyond the fields rose a row of steep hills.

Keith and Sven waited under the Arch. Keith stared warily out at the snow-covered landscape and fidgeted with his scarf. "It's going to be fun," he said without conviction. "I'm going to have fun."

"That's the spirit." 

Keith and Sven turned as a bulky figure emerged from the shadows of the Arch. It was Lance, and he was carrying two sleds. "Borrowed these," he said, shoving one at Keith, who caught it clumsily. "Let's go. I say Stable Hill. It's the steepest."

"And the farthest," said Keith.

"Aw, come on. It's going to be fun, remember?" Lance flashed an impish grin. "Anyway, I'm the only one who knows where you book is. You'll thank me in the end. Trust me."

"No," Keith said. But he stepped onto the road willingly enough.


	2. Chapter 2

As they trudged across the snowy field, Keith kept glancing back over his shoulder. He wasn't sure why. It had been some time since the snow had obliterated his view of the quadrangle. Maybe he was secretly hoping someone would show up on a snowmobile and give them all a ride back. Though how anyone would find him in this, he wasn't sure; the snow buried their footprints almost as they made them.

Keith shambled over to Sven, whose cheeks were flushed from the cold air, but who betrayed no other sign of discomfort. "Show off," he muttered.

Sven grinned at him.

"You realize," Keith went on, "that if we get killed out here – which is possible – no one is going to find us before May."

"I thought you wanted to be a Space Explorer."

"I do. But I also want to live to see graduation. It's cold."

"Space is cold," said Sven. He pointed at Lance, who was chugging along ahead of them. "He seems happy, anyway."

"I wonder," said Keith, "if he'll still be happy when we're back at the dorms and he loses his leverage with me. There's something I could write about." He stole another glance at Sven. 

His friend was walking with his held tilted back; snow was pelting him, but he seemed not to care. Keith shifted the sled against his side, then cleared his throat and said, "Hey, thanks for coming with me. I'm sorry I dragged you away from Aiko."

"It's all right," Sven replied without looking at him. "I couldn't let you go alone into the wilderness with Lance. I might never see you again. Besides, I will see Aiko later." His cheeks went slightly redder.

" _Ah._ " Keith grinned. "She's pretty."

"Gorgeous."

"I'm – kind of surprised I never saw you with her before."

"We've only been together a week."

"Yeah, but…" Keith stopped. "A _week_? And I only just - And you weren't even going to – "

Sven, stopping too, said in an even tone, "You seemed very busy."

Keith was stung. "Busy? Busy with _what_?"

Before Sven could answer, Lance's sharp voice broke into their conversation. "Hey!" They glanced up ahead. He was standing a few yards away, one arm clutching the sled to his side, the other flung up in a _what is taking you?_ gesture. "You guys aren't chickening out, are you?"

Sven glanced at Keith, and even through the snow, Keith saw the gleam in his dark eyes. "Why wait?" he asked in a light tone, and for a second Keith had no idea what he meant. Then Sven knelt and gathered a baseball-sized mound of snow into his cupped hands, and began to pack it into a spheroid. "Let's find out now just how unhappy we can make him."

Lance yelped as the snowball caught him square in the chest. "Not fair!" he shouted. "I'm carrying a damn sled!"

"You'll need that shield," Sven shot back and, gathering more snowballs into the crook of his elbow, started forward. Lance squawked in alarm and hurried to retaliate. Keith laughed as a snowball smacked Sven's arm, causing him to drop his ammunition. "That's it, Cahill…"

"Ow! Hey!"

"Use your shield if you don't know how to dodge!"

"Oh, you're going down, man!"

"After you."

"Christ – ow!"

"Damn. Get back here!"

Still laughing, Keith gathered Lance's fallen sled and took up the read.

The winter air was sweet and sharp in their lungs when they finally reached the hills. The snow had actually stopped by then, and the clouds were beginning to thin. "You know," said Lance, turning to survey the field and valley they were leaving behind, "the campus looks kind of nice from here."

"You can't even see it," Keith said.

"Better still."

At a higher elevation and at a sufficient distance from the glaring station lights, the moon and brightest stars shone through the clouds. They gave the snow covering the fields and valley an opalescent shimmer. Around the rim of the valley, the hills rose higher and higher as they moved off into the distance to become the beginnings of the jagged Rocky Mountains. Keith inhaled deeply and imagined he was standing on a mountain range on another planet. Did other worlds hold such stark and stirring beauty?

He turned to find Sven gazing up at the sky, a pensive, slightly dreamy expression on his face.

"Well, Erikson?" he said.

"It reminds me of Sweden," said Sven.

Keith smiled and started to say something, but—

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHAAAAAAAA!"

Keith seized Sven by the coat and yanked him out of the way just in time to avoid being mowed down by Lance, tearing down the hill, headfirst, on a sled. He zipped along at an alarming speed, breezing dangerously close to a line of scraggly evergreens. Keith and Sven watched from the crest of the hill, amused, as the sled veered this way and that while its rider clung on for dear life. Fortunately, the hill was not terribly steep, and it was not long before the sled began to lose velocity. It bounced a little, skidded, then finally slid to a halt at the base of the hill. Lance was dumped ungracefully, facedown, into the snow.

Keith and Sven exchanged a look. "Laugh now," Keith said, "because he'll kill us if he sees us."

Sven chuckled. "A virgin. I knew it."

"Which makes us responsible for his education."

"Great. Ready?"

"To the rescue!"

They loped down the hill together, slipping and skidding, but somehow managing to arrive at the bottom on their feet. Lance had, by then, regained his feet if not his dignity, and was angrily beating caked snow from his knees. He kicked the sled. "Stupid effing thing."

"You're supposed to steer," Sven informed him, a note of superiority in his tone. Keith covered his mouth to hide another splurt of laughter. Lance's face turned bright red and his hazel eyes glittered murderously.

"How the hell do you steer the thing?" he spluttered. "Do you see a steering wheel?"

"Is there a steering wheel on a horse?" Keith rejoined. He slipped the sled up with his foot and caught it deftly. "See this?" He indicated the metal bar at the front of the sled. "You grip it – here." He gripped the bar with two fists. "You steer by shifting your weight on it. And for God's sake, Lance, keep your feet in the air." He laughed, and this time made no effort to conceal it. "You've really never sledded before. I thought you said you were a country boy."

Lance scowled. "Wasn't much snow where I'm from."

"This hill isn't good," Sven said. "Not steep enough. Too many bushes."

"Agreed," said Keith. "Good first attempt, Lance." He clapped him on the back. "We'll show you. Don't worry."

Lance swiped the sled away from Keith and clutched it possessively while he glowered. "I _know_ how to do it." Keith bit his lip and Sven looked away. "Oh, shut up, you jackasses. Thought that was funny? This country boy'll show you a thing or two."

 

And so he did. Which is to say, Lance caught on more quickly than Sven or Keith would have thought. As they plowed their way through the shin-deep snow, up into the steeper hills, Keith had to marvel at Lance’s dogged determination to prove his stuff. He carried his sled, which was cumbersome, without complaint, and he hurled himself down slopes with a will that seemed almost bent on self-destruction. He fell over once or twice – once because he skidded over a patch of ice, which wasn’t his fault – but he always came up laughing. Cursing too sometimes, but mostly laughing.

Once, after a particularly steep and exhilarating ride, Lance remained seated on his snow-encrusted sled at the bottom of the hill and waited for Keith to slide down beside him. “My ass is completely frozen,” he informed Keith when they were seated together. “I can’t feel a damn thing.” He grinned. They both turned to watch Sven’s curious descent.

On Stable Hill, they had discovered the abandoned remains of what had once been – to no one’s surprise – a stable. There was little left save some bales of ancient brown hay poking through the snow, a few rusted horseshoes hanging from hooks on the rotted walls, and some plywood, which Sven had taken a particular interest in. He insisted on carrying one longish, rather smooth with them and as he was content to carry it himself, they humored him. Now they saw what he’d had in mind back at the stable. The board was crude, but the slope was not so steep that he was in any danger. He was standing with one foot on the board at the crest of the hill. He kicked off with the other, and descended, the thin board cutting a channel through the snow, his arms held out for balance.

“A surfboard?” Lance said uncertainly.

“A snowboard,” Keith realized. “Clever.”

“He’s part Swedish or something, right? Didn’t the Swedes invent skiing? I thought I read somewhere … wait, maybe that was the Norwegians. Anyway,” Lance went on brightly, “about ready to thank me?”

“Thank you?” Keith raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For convincing you to come out here, of course. Isn’t this better than working?”

“Not quite as much fun as getting an F for turning in an unfinished paper, but…”

“Oh, come on, Keith. You know you really wanted to play in the snow.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Keith said. “Nothing that can – and probably will, knowing you – be used against me later.”

Lance snorted. “How in the world does your girlfriend stand you?”

“What’s that?”

Lance shook his head. “Nothing.” He clambered awkwardly to his feet. “Ow, my ass is completely numb.” He waved at Sven, who was about two-thirds of the way down the hill. “Whatsa matter, Erickson?” he yelled.

Sven shouted back, sounding slightly out of breath, “It’s … not … smooth enough!”

Lance laughed. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Keith, who was looking up at him curiously. “What?”

“What did you mean?”

“When? About what?”

“My girlfriend,” he all but snapped. “You said you didn’t understand how she could stand me. You gonna explain that?”

“Oh, that.” Lance shrugged. “Didn’t realize it would upset you. It’s just … well, you know. For God’s sake, Keith, can’t you relax and enjoy yourself for once? Every time I try to get you to do something fun, it’s always, ‘Yes, but I have responsibilities.’ Or, ‘But won’t we get in trouble?’ Live a little is all I’m saying. I feel like it’s up to me to save your stupid soul, or something.”

“You think I don’t know how to have fun?” Keith’s brow creased.

“I don’t think it, I know it. It’s like – like gravity, or something. It’s just _true_.”

He said it jokingly, but Keith was far from mollified. Did Lance really think he was such a stuffed shirt, that all he did was study? Did anyone _else_ think that?”

“The hell with the future is what I’m saying,” Lance’s voice drifted back to him. He was no longer looking at Keith, but had turned back to watch Sven’s struggle with his makeshift snowboard. As a result, his expression went unseen and his tone was muffled. “Sometimes you just have to live for now.”

“What do you mean?” Keith asked softly, and immediately wished that he hadn’t. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear Lance’s answer.

To his surprise, Lance replied solemnly, “I mean, I watch you spend your life planning for the future. You scramble from paper to paper, you’re always thinking about what happens _next_. The next grade, the next major award, or whatever. When does this future of yours ever become the present?”

Keith said crossly, “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Everything you just said – I swear, I’ve seen every line of it on a t-shirt or a bumper sticker. Don’t try to tell me how to live my life, Cahill.”

“I’m not. But listen to this, my friend. If you had actually listened to your girlfriend and forgotten about impressing Professor Who Cares with that stupid paper on the Borellians, you could be making out with her _right now._ Instead of freezing your ass off with us guys.”

“I thought you wanted to go sledding.”

Lance threw him a wan look. “That was just an example. Look, forget about it.” He turned away again.

Keith started to say something, but checked himself as Sven finally reached them.

“That was some action out there, Erickson,” Lance remarked loudly – probably to forestall another retort from Keith.

Sven’s cheeks went pink as he bent to pick up the wooden plank. “It’s not smooth enough,” he said. “Or the right material, or the right shape… My brother Erik is the champion snowboarder in the family.” He glanced up and finally caught Keith’s half-strangled look and the coolness in Lance’s eyes. “Did I miss something?”

“Nothing,” Lance said shortly. He glanced narrowly at Keith. “I say we go higher up.”

Sven looked in the direction he indicated and frowned. “Those hills are rather steep…”

Keith glared into the distance. The hills rose sharply, their summits blurred by a flurry of snow. He tried not to think about Lance’s sarcastic appraisal, but he found he couldn’t help it. He thought about Maria, in a warm room, curled up on a battered sofa, sipping hot tea, and wondering if he would walk through the door. He tried to picture her face and imagine the disappointment in her eyes when she realized he had meant what he’d said, that he would not come. He was angry – and torn. He looked at Sven and Lance. They were both examining Sven’s crude snowboard. Lance had produced a Swiss army knife from his pocket and was cutting away at the sharp corners of the board. He said something that Keith could not hear, and Sven laughed. 

Keith looked back up at the white hills. They were daunting. The air was growing colder, but somehow he could bear it. There was a fire in his belly – from anger, maybe, or perhaps it was simply from being out and free after having been cooped up for so long. The paper was so important; the research had consumed the better part of two weeks, and then he’d been informed that his presentation would be before several prominent Galaxy Garrison representatives… And now there was no way in the world he would be able to complete it on time. No choice at all. Did fate conspire against him? A slightly hysterical laugh rose in his throat.

Sven and Lance turned in alarm. Keith brushed past them both, a set look on his face. “Let’s go,” he said between his teeth, not looking at Lance. “The steeper the better and to hell with tomorrow.”

 

As they trudged higher into the hills both the temperature and their spirits decreased, and Keith began to wonder if this had been such a great idea after all. Sven said nothing contradictory, but he read his friend’s curious, slightly reproachful look easily. Lance said nothing to him at all, and Keith began to wonder if maybe Lance had secretly been hoping that Keith _wouldn’t_ rise to his bait.

_I’m going to have fun,_ he told himself, even as he glanced back at his beleaguered comrades. _I’m going to make it worth disappointing my professors._

It _was_ fun, he decided. There was something very exhilarating about being at such a high elevation with such a beautiful, stark landscape spread out all around them. Keith’s legs were beginning to ache, but that was all right because it meant he was working hard. He tried not to smile at the thought of Lance clapping his hands together and blowing on them for warmth.

_No one will ever believe this. Maria will be impressed._

Behind him, he heard Sven and Lance struggling. “Legs,” Lance gasped. “Legs.”

“Ears, nose, fingers,” Sven muttered.

Lance gave a hoarse bark of laughter. “Wrong topic, man.”

Keith smiled to himself as Sven tried again. “Hovercar…”

“Still not it. Looong legs that go on and on and on and … stop eventually.”

Keith felt a flush creep up to his cheeks as Sven, finally catching on, supplied, “Great big, soft—”

“Hey, Sven! On the next ridge! I think I see that actress you like. The green-eyed one. Whatsername.”

“In that leather bikini she wore in—”

“Hey, describe! Describe!”

“It was—” 

“Will you two be quiet?” Keith barked, annoyed. They weren’t taking him seriously at all. In response, he received a pair of chuckles.

“Just trying to keep warm and motivated, captain,” Lance called, speaking to him for the first time in half an hour. “It’s a bit cold for your poor followers.”

Keith almost snapped out something like, _Well, this was your idea! We’re out here because of you. If you don’t like it, blame yourself._ But he wasn’t angry anymore, and anyway, when he opened his mouth again, his teeth started to chatter. So the thought went unspoken.

 

“Can you put two on a sled?” Lance asked when they finally stopped at the crest of a particularly steep hill. There was a note of worry in his voice.

“Of course,” Keith said dismissively. Then his eyes narrowed. “Scared, Cahill?”

“It’s just a little steep.”

Sven said nothing, but he looked doubtful as well.

“Look, I’ll go first,” Keith offered, setting his sled down. Lance and Sven regarded him.

“It’s going to be very fast, Keith. Just remember that,” said Sven.

“I took Physics in high school.”

“Um, Keith,” Lance said, lifting a hand as if to grasp Keith’s arm. “You don’t have to do this to impress me.”

“Believe me, I’m not.” _This is for me._

He lay on the sled and gripped the bar tightly in his fists. He peered over the crest of the hill. Everything below was a swirl of silvery white. He couldn’t see the bottom, couldn’t see anything. He swallowed. Maybe this wasn’t…

Lance’s mocking words echoed back to him. _Live a little, Keith._

Very little, though?

He didn’t remember pushing off. But suddenly the ground dropped from under him and the frozen wind was whistling past his cheeks. For the first few seconds, it was amazing. The roaring of the wind in his ears obliterated any other noise, even his own whoops and hollers. The air was perfect, clear and sharp as it filled his lungs. It was a moment before he realized just how fast he was going. He pressed his chin into the bar and clung tightly as the sled wove left and right and almost flipped over. He clenched his teeth and tried to glimpse the bottom ahead – but he couldn’t. Slush churned up by the front of the sled blew up into his face and he spluttered. The sled bounced and jostled him.

He hit a patch of ice and the sled spun crazily. His head was knocked back and he bit his lip and tasted blood. He was out of control. Doggedly, he sought to wrench the sled around, but it was no good. He flew up in the air and landed jarringly, almost losing his grip. He felt, rather than heard something crunch, but oddly it didn’t hurt. He was up in the air again and when he landed this time, _everything_ hurt. 

It didn’t last long. 

A second later the sled struck something very hard, and then everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that this story was written in 2000, but Livejournal communities like Little_details existed, before information about how to treat a broken leg was readily available online. Or maybe it was and I, being young, didn't know how to find it. Whatever. I've thought about revising this part of the story so it's more realistic, but I decided not to. This story is so old, and I don't want to spend too much time on it when I have other projects in progress. Please suspend your disbelief. This is based on an animated series, after all.
> 
> I did make one major change, and that was too get rid of the character of Sara Vree. She was an original character, invented by someone with whom I was collaborating at the time. (Not on this story; she just let me use the character.) I have nothing against the character, but I lost touch with her creator a long time ago (we just drifted apart, that's all) and it occurred to me that Jeff could do everything Sara did, and it would make sense, and he's in the canon. So, yay for Jeff.

Pain snapped through his body, jolting him back to consciousness. Red suns pulsed around him, and it was some moments before he realized that his eyes were closed. He opened them a crack and blinding white light stabbed at him painfully. He clenched his eyes shut again, deciding that he didn’t want to see, after all.

Sounds came to him. Someone was talking quickly and much too loudly in the roiling darkness above his head. From the curious and incoherent mixture of Swedish and Japanese, he thought if might be Sven. From the angry, frustrated tone, Keith guessed that he was swearing.

“Broken,” Sven announced bleakly after a long stream of invectives. “I don’t even want to try to move him. And the neck—” 

Keith forced his eyes open again.

“Jesus!” Lance squawked in a dry voice, somewhere off to the side. “He’s awake!”

“We’ll get you out of here, okay, Keith?” Sven said quickly, bending close. The snow was falling again, heavier than before, and in the gray light of the fluttering snowflakes, Keith thought his friend looked pale. His black eyebrows knitted together.

“It can’t be that bad—” Keith gasped and winced as even the thought of sitting up sent javelins of pain through his frame. He bit down on scream. Panic was overtaking him. He couldn’t move; he was freezing. He had to swallow with difficulty as a hideous thought brought tears to his eyes and a lump suddenly lodged itself in his throat: he had no foreseeable way out of this mess. Snowflakes pelted his face and the wind rang in his ears.

“But if we can’t move him, how the hell are we going to get him outta here?” Lance voiced Keith’s fear. “Sven, he’s gonna freeze to death!”

“He is not,” Sven said sharply. He reached out, hesitated, then placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder and squeezed. Keith winced, but the arm by some miracle was uninjured, so it was more a reflex than from actual pain. Nevertheless, Sven drew back, grim-faced. “Hang in there, my friend. One of us has to go back for help,” he said to Lance.

Lance glanced down at Keith’s stark face, then back at Sven, and swallowed. “You’d better be the one to go, Sven.”

Keith tried to protest, but Lance overrode him with a hasty, “Look, you probably know better than any of us how to survive in this white shit. And you’ve got a damn good sense of direction – don’t deny it. He’ll be safe with me,” he added, gesturing at Keith with his chin. “I know how to splint a leg.”

Sven still looked doubtful. Keith hoped some miracle would intervene – anything to avoid being left o the mercies of Lance Cahill. Sven shook his head sorrowfully and the hope died in Keith’s heart. Sven gave Keith’s shoulder one last squeeze and clambered to his feet. “I’ll be back,” he said stiffly. “In half an hour.” Keith tried to shake his head, but that was much too painful. “If he’s—” Sven swallowed with difficulty. “If anything happens while I’m gone, so help me—” He broke off again. “I’ll kill you. It’s as simple as that. So don’t screw up.”

“I won’t,” Lance replied in a small but determined voice.

Sven started to unzip his jacket. “You’ll need…”

“So will you!” spluttered Lance.

“Sven, don’t,” Keith croaked.

Sven shrugged out of his parka and thrust it at Lance. “I’ll be moving. You won’t. It’s a good jacket. I’ll want it back. Good luck, Cahill.”

“You too, man.”

“Keith, hang in there. I’ll be back soon.”

 _Don’t leave._ “Okay,” he whispered raggedly.

Sven was gone. The snow was falling so thickly now, that his tall, dark figure was lost in an instant. Keith strained his eyes, then looked up at Lance, who was clutching Sven’s parka and looking deeply worried. “The judo club gave a nickname. Can’t remember what … but it means ‘brave.’” He tried to move again and inhaled sharply. “They’re right.” 

Lance’s hazel gaze flickered down to Keith, and he smiled nervously. “You’re in a lot of pain, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“Umm … what else hurts – besides everything, I mean? I’m pretty sure Sven’s right about your leg being broken. It’s all twisted. No, don’t look!” He sank to his knees and placed a hand on Keith’s chest to prevent him from lifting his head. Bolts of pain riveted through his neck and shoulders.

“My neck,” he said softly.

“I was afraid of that.” Lance bit his lip. “Look – don’t try to move.”

“Wouldn’t … dream … of it.”

“Don’t worry, Keith. Sven’ll be back with help. You’ll be back in time to finish your paper, which won’t matter ‘cause there won’t be classes tomorrow, but whatever, and everything’ll be all right. Got that? Hey, I’m from New York. I’ve been in far worse scrapes than this, and lived. Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Lance smiled again, encouragingly, and then began to cast about. Keith couldn’t turn his head to watch him, which was very frustrating. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking. Um, Keith. I have an idea. I know Sven said we shouldn’t move you, but you’re going to freeze to death if I don’t get you out of the snow. I’m going to try to get you on the unbroken sled.”

 _Oh, God._ “Lance, I think that would be a very, very bad idea.” 

“Yeah, but—”

Keith took a deep breath and said, with difficulty, “I think, before we do anything drastic, we should give Sven a chance. He may be back soon.”

“Keith, I don’t think he’ll be back in any half hour. It’s really snowing hard.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I know.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again and said, “You said you knew how to set a leg?”

“I know how to splint one. Gimme a sec.”

“What—?”

“I need to make a splint. Don’t move.” He dropped Sven’s parka over Keith’s chest.

Keith closed his eyes again. “I’m not moving. Believe me, I have no desire to move.” Talking hurt. Every breath was painful, in fact. What else had he damaged in that stupid, stupid fall besides his leg, neck, and pride? He flexed his fingers experimentally. Arms and hands working fine ... Ribs? Maybe bruised. He tried to move his other leg. That seemed all right. The side of his head throbbed and he envisioned a huge lump. How could he have done this? He should never have let Lance’s taunts get to him. What kind of idiot was he to throw caution so heedlessly to the wind? Keith was an optimist, but he had a large enough dose of realism to know that it would be quite a miracle if he got out of this in one piece.

Lance was working, off beyond his field of vision. Keith could hear him struggling with – what? From the garbled curses that reached his ears, he realized it had to be his broken sled. 

There was a sharp splintering sound, and then Lance yelped in triumph. “Got it!”

He returned, hugging a bundle of splintered boards to his chest. “Rope, too,” he said. “That’s lucky.” He knelt in the snow beside Keith’s injured leg. On his face was a look of determination that did not alleviate Keith’s apprehension at all. “This might hurt,” he began. He paused, and his expression turned somewhat grim. “This _will_ hurt. Sorry. I’ll try to be gentle, but… You want some kind of thing to hold onto?” He raised his thin brows questioningly.

Keith clutched Sven’s parka so tightly his knuckles went white. “I’ll be okay,” he gasped, steeling himself for incredible pain.

To his surprise, it wasn’t as bad as he’d anticipated. Lance was surprisingly gentle as he placed tow long planks from the shattered sled on either side of Keith’s leg. It did hurt, of course, when he pushed the two plans close against the leg, but as Lance in no way move the leg when he bound the planks with the rope, it was not excruciating. Through the entire operation, Lance kept his eyes narrowed in concentration and his mouth set in a thin line, with the tip of his tongue poking out. It was a comical face, and if the circumstances had been different, Keith would have laughed. So the capricious first-year was good at something besides cribbing papers and seducing the less discriminating of his female classmates.

“Thank you,” he whispered as Lance surveyed his completed handiwork. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Lance sat back on the intact sled and cupped his chin in his hand thoughtfully. “Just something I sort of picked up, I guess.”

“In one of those ‘worse scrapes’ you mentioned?”

Lance’s mouth quirked. “Yeah. Actually,” he continued blithely, “I got it out of a book. I do read, you know. I found this manual in the library, that teaches you how to do all kinds of important stuff, like how to break a guy’s jaw in once punch, or how to land a spaceship, or how to wrestle alligators…”

Keith laughed lightly. “Didn’t know such a book existed.” At Lance’s mischievous smirk, he added dryly, “Still don’t.” 

“I’m telling the truth, I swear. It’s a good book. I should get you a copy. You’ll need it, if you’re going to be a big space hero or whatever.”

Keith laughed again. “You know, Sven keeps saying something like that too. Especially when—” He forgot about his neck injury; without thinking, he tried to raise his head and gasped at the sudden pain.

Lance bounced to his feet and tugged off the thick woolen scarf around his neck. He folded it twice, then laid it across Keith’s throat. “A reminder not to move your stupid neck, stupid.”

“The pain’s enough of a reminder.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Keith sighed. “So, have you ever wrestled an alligator, Cahill?”

“Actually…”

“C’mon, the truth, now.”

“Well, actually, no.” Lance sat on his sled again. “But if you ever need someone to wrestle an alligator for you, I’m your man.”

“You’ve really been in – worse scrapes?”

“I told you, yes. I’m from the grand ol’ Supercity of New York. Got the scars and the accent to prove it, too.” He flashed a humorless grin.

“Incredible.”

“What is?”

Keith had been about to say, _That that smart-ass attitude didn’t get you killed there,_ but decided that that was probably too mean.

“Seriously, what?”

“It’s nothing. Forget about it.”

With sudden stinging clarity, Lance looked at him and said, “You wish Erickson had stayed with you instead of me, don’t you?”

The question surprised Keith. Feeling as if the truth had been knocked from him, he said softly, “Yes.”

“I see.”

“Look, Sven is my best friend. And anyway—” _Might as well be completely honest._ “I like to be around people I know I can count on. I’d much rather be in a situation where I didn’t have to wrestle an alligator at all.”

“I’m dependable.”

“Really?” Keith said dryly.

“Really. You can count on me. Hey, I always wanted a chance to prove my responsible and leaderly qualities.”

“You couldn’t have picked a warmer way?” Keith shivered. His fleece-lined slacks and parka were only so thick, and they were becoming damp. The air was sharp as broken glass. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw against an icy blast. Lance leaned over and pushed Sven’s parka closer around Keith’s face.

“This is how I operate, man. You know that.” Lance’s white smile flashed in the snowy darkness.

Keith sighed again and surrendered. “I don’t have much choice, I guess. Okay, Cahill, I’m counting on you.” _Sven,_ he pleaded silently, _get back here quickly._

* * * *

As he plodded through the snow, Sven kept looking back over his shoulder. Not that he truly expected Keith to make a miraculous recovery and come charging after him, with Lance right behind. But at the moment that seemed more likely than his keeping his promise to be back in half an hour.

The snow was thick and deep, and came nearly to his knees. That initial burst of adrenaline, which had kept him warm despite his lost parka, had fled and he was now quite cold. Raw wind bit into his skin through his thick sweater. He couldn’t feel his feet, and his mouth seemed frozen in a tight frown. Snowflakes lit on his lashes and melted, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision.

“ _Helvete,_ ” he croaked, tucking his gloved hands into his sleeves and rubbing vigorously at his numb arms.

He had no idea how long he walked. Though the thick clouds hid the moon and stars from view, the light seemed to be changing, the world growing darker. He couldn’t tell if the wind were picking up or if the temperature were dropping. He couldn’t feel anything.

“ _Once there was a Space Explorer…_ ” he tried to sing, but the words rasped painfully in his throat. It was no good. He would never find help. Keith was going to die and there was nothing he could do but plot onward, hoping against hope that his footsteps would lead him back to the dorms and rescue.

Hugging his arms tight against his body and gritting his teeth, he stumbled on. Another fierce gust of wind knocked him off his feet.

* * * *

Keith starred at the sky. “Lance,” he said finally, “it’s been more than half an hour, hasn’t it?”

Lance didn’t say anything.

“I can’t feel anything,” Keith said. “Not even the pain. I’m so cold. And tired, all of a sudden.”

At his side, Lance sprang up as if in alarm. “I – I don’t think you’re supposed to sleep, Keith. Try to stay awake.”

“I’m trying.” His vision was darkening around the edges, growing dim. The cold did not bite as ferociously as it had before. That was nice. Peaceful. “Lance,” he croaked. “I’m scared.” He couldn’t see to either side, so he reached out with his hand, felt empty air. “Lance?”

“Right here, buddy.” His voice buzzed close to Keith’s ear. He felt a hand on his wrist. “Just hang on. Think hot thoughts.”

Keith swallowed and willed his mind away from the rising terror that he could not feel his body at all: not the pain, not the cold, not anything. “Hot thoughts?” he murmured through cracked lips. “Um … fire.” He almost said _California in the summer,_ but then he remembered that there as a very real chance he might never see his home again. “Coffee,” he said instead. “Wool sweaters. Wasabi.”

“Paprika,” Lance chuckled, from the vicinity of Keith’s feet. “You’re as bad as Sven. Luna Taylor, man. Astrella Lopez. That blue-skinned babe from Silver Spiral, whatshername. Sven’s younger sister. Now _that’s_ what I mean by hot. Oh, man. If Sven ever let me meet her…” 

“Didn’t he say he’d break your neck first?” Keith said weakly.

“He did indeed. But, um, Sven likes to talk big, doesn’t he?”

“Not really.”

“Yeah, well. I doubt he’d _really_ break my neck.”

“Probably not. Maybe just an arm or two. What, dare I ask, are you doing?”

For the past few moments he had been aware that Lance was working furtively on something just beyond his line of sight. Keith heard his grunts and the occasional muffled curse. He was worried, but it was a muted worry. If he were going to die out here, it made little difference anymore if Lance helped him to his end.

At length, Lance said, “You don’t want to know.”

“You’re scaring me.” He wasn’t joking.

Instead of answering, though, Lance began to sing softly as he worked: 

“Oh, what do we do with a drunken sailor?  
What do we do with a drunken sailor?  
What—”

He stopped, paused for a moment, then began again loudly:

“Oh, what do we do with a straight A student?  
What do we do with a straight A student?  
What do we do with a straight A student  
Early in the morning?”

Lance crawled around to Keith’s side and knelt close to the ground. “Close your eyes,” he advised.

“What—?”

Without explanation, Lance buried his arms in the snow up to his shoulders. Keith watched out of the corner of his eye, confused. The kid appeared to be straining. His pale face went bright red with exertion and he clenched his jaw. “Jeez, Keith, you’re heavy!”

“What the hell are you—?” Keith protested feebly. But then he felt himself being lifted slowly. There was something long and flat bracing him.

“I gotta get you out of the snow,” Lance said through his clenched teeth. “First I braced you with Sven’s snowboard, then I slide the other sled under you.”

“You did what?” Keith almost choked. “You idiot! You could have – what if you’d slipped? You could have killed me!”

“Don’t be melodramatic. I knew you’d yell if I told you. Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it worked, but— Lance, you took a risk.”

“Relax. You’re out of the snow, aren’t you? I can pull you at least partway back.” Lance scanned the bleak white and black landscape. “We need shelter. Don’t worry,” he added, looking over his shoulder to grin down at Keith. “I’ll figure something out.”

Keith’s heart was still beating much too rapidly. The adrenaline rush that accompanied the sudden jolt of fear had returned some feeling to his frozen extremities, but he had no more confidence in Lance now than he’d had before. Still, what else could he do? “Do what you think is right,” he said. “My life is in your hands.”

* * * *

Sven had lost all sense of time. His sweater, slacks, and gloves were soaked through. His scarf, wound tightly around his neck and head, was hardly adequate replacement for his parka. His teeth chattered so loudly that he could scarcely hear his own jumbled thoughts.

 _Have to … get back … can’t fail Keith and Lance. How could I … leave them? Aiko, Aiko…_ He imagined her warm brown eyes and her perfect creaky skin, her long black hair spilling across his chest as he held her against him. He could almost see her. There – right in front of him. _Aiko._

He reached for her and stumbled again, and this time he was too numb to break his fall. He lay prone, cheek pressed into the snow. He made fists, bent his elbows, and tried to lift himself, but the strength went out of him and he fell back down, gasping and choking.

He wasn’t sure when he started hearing voices. “Jesus,” someone rumbled, very far away. Then a woman who sounded remarkably like Aiko was crying, “Sven! Oh, thank God we finally found you. It’s okay. We’ve got you. You idiot, where’s your jacket?”

 

Someone forced a steaming up of liquid into his thawing fingers. Another hand helped him raise the cup to his lips. He sipped it tentatively. It wasn’t saké, like he’d hoped. It was plain, boring black tea that burned his tongue. He turned betrayed eyes upward and found Aiko gazing down at him, a tender expression on her beautiful face. She was perched on the arm of his chair. He blinked slowly, as it dawned on him that he was inside. Someone had had the sense to remove his soaked sweater and wrap him in several thermal blankets. A fire crackled in a nearby fireplace. The room was flooded with light – almost too much light after all that black and white. He shook his head wearily and Aiko wrapped her slim arms around his neck and kissed his brow.

He smiled up at her, dazed. She smiled back – were there tears in her eyes? Before he could be sure, another thought struck him. “Keith,” he said hoarsely. “And Lance. Are they still out there?”

“We’ve got Newley and Forrister still out looking for them,” Jeff said, moving into Sven’s line of vision. “Do you know where they are?”

Sven shrugged out of Aiko’s embrace and looked around. He was in Davis Hall, in an overstuffed armchair in one of the smaller meeting rooms. Seated or standing around him were his friends, Jeff in the fore, his arms crossed over his chest. His resemblance to his cousin was stunning, and Sven started to speak again, but then his glance fell upon the dark-haired girl seated quietly in a chair to his left. Her face was pale and her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.

“Sven,” she said when their eyes met, “where’s Keith? Is he—?”

“He was all right when I left him,” Sven said quickly. “We went sledding. Keith took a bad fall and hurt his leg. I left Lance with him and came back to get help. We didn’t want to move him.”

“Where?” Jeff asked.

“About one and a quarter kilometers northeast of Stable Hill,” Sven said with difficulty.

Aiko shook her head. “You walked almost a mile in this?” She gestured toward the window. Snow was still falling, thick and fast. “And without a jacket?”

“I had a jacket,” Sven insisted. He didn’t want her to think he was stupid. “I gave it to Keith.”

“Oh, _sweetie—_ ” She leaned toward him, probably to kiss him again, but he evaded her lips.

“Keith and Lance are in trouble,” he said. “I don’t know how long ago I left them, but Keith is lying in the snow and—” 

“Poor Keith,” said Jeff. “You realize that, after this, he’ll never try to have fun again. Guess we better go rescue him. How’re you feeling, Sven? Well enough to come with us? What if we drove?”

“Jeff, you’ll never get a car out in this. Even the airways are closed,” Aiko said, sounding exasperated. 

Jeff looked thoughtful. “What if we stole a snowmobile?” he mused.

“You’d get in trouble,” someone – who might have been Cliff – piped up.

Jeff glanced over his shoulder to make a face at his detractor. He turned back to Sven and Aiko, dark eyes alight with mischief. “What if we weren’t caught?”

“Then it might work,” Sven said slowly. “We might even get Keith back in time to finish his paper.” He glanced at the crowd. “They haven’t—?”

“No, they haven’t canceled classes,” Maria said glumly. “And when the professors find out that Keith didn’t finish his report because he was injured in a sledding accident…”

Jeff’s gaze fell on Aiko. “Tsk, tsk What _will_ my cousin do when he realizes how many of us like him despite all his efforts? I have an idea, but I’ll need help.” He raised his eyebrows challengingly.

Aiko sighed, one arm still snaked possessively around Sven’s neck. She leaned across him and held out her hand, which Jeff clasped briefly. 

“You too,” Jeff said, glancing at Maria, who nodded. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Maria, you’re Med track, right? And Aiko’s Bio. Okay, here’s what I need you ladies to do…”


	4. Chapter 4

At least he wasn’t freezing. Wrapped in his own coat, with Sven’s parka tucked around his shoulders and Lance’s scarf draped across his neck, Keith felt somewhat like a moth in a cocoon. Or a baby wrapped in swaddling. A big, unhappy baby, who could do nothing but allow himself to be dragged along over the snow.

Lance at least seemed to have some purpose in mind, as he constantly paused to glance over his shoulder to give Keith a reassuring smile. Keith did not trust that smile, but he was resigned to his fate.

They appeared to be traveling a careful route around the hills. Once he realized that, Keith began to entertain notions that he might actually survive this; Lance had enough sense not to attempt to drag the sled down a steep slope. To distract himself – and to stay awake, as he realized, with mounting concern, that lethargy was stealing over him – Keith recited, to himself, the _Star Wars_ screenplay. Maria would laugh, he knew, if she ever learned he had almost the entire original trilogy memorized.

Lance was struggling with the sled. 

“Use the Force,” Keith mumbled.

Lance looked back. His face was flushed, his gaze weary, but he managed to smile. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get you to Degobah.”

“You’re Han Solo,” Keith said softly, in amazement.

“Well, gee, I guess I am. I wish I had a big ol’ Wookie here. You’re heavy, you know. You owe me.”

“Owe _you_? I wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t stolen my book.”

“Ahem. I only convinced you to come sledding. I did _not_ force you to plunge headfirst over that mountain.” Lance turned away and resumed pulling at the rope attached to the sled.

Keith said nothing.

Some time later they stopped. Lance knelt by his side and said, “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared before Keith could protest.

Keith waited in the darkness and silence; he had no idea how long. A loud clatter accompanied Lance’s return. Again he knelt by Keith, breathless.

“Still alive? Good. Hold on.” He patted Keith’s shoulder and then he was off again.

Keith sighed and closed his eyes and tried without much success to imagine what in the world Lance was doing. Lance made six more trips to wherever he was disappearing, returning each time laden with something he threw into a pile at Keith’s feet. “Okay,” he said after his sixth trip, sounding exhausted but pleased with himself. “Prepare to be eternally grateful.”

“You’re building the _Millennium Falcon_?” Keith whispered.

Lance ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks coloring. “Um, no. But this’ll get you out of the snow.” He turned away.

He reappeared a few seconds later, a bale of hay under each arm. He set them down on either side of Keith, about a foot and a half from the sled.

“Where did you get those?” Keith asked.

“Stable Hill. That’s where we are. While I work, help me figure this out: if you’re Luke and I’m Han, who’s Sven?” He vanished again.

“Chewbacca,” Keith laughed, amazed that he still could.

“Considering his accent … yeah,” Lance chuckled, returning with two more bales and placing them beside the others. “But is he really that hairy?”

“You’re right. Okay. Lando?”

“Sven would never betray me!” Lance sounded wounded.

“Leia.”

“Now I’m picturing Sven in a bronze bikini. And I’m saying it out loud so the image will be seared in your mind too.”

“Don’t make me laugh, Lance. Please…”

Lance continued to work, piling bales of hay two-high around Keith. Still, Keith did not guess what he was up to until he began placing flat wooden boards across the bales to make a roof.

“Well, Captain? Impressed?” Lance inquired, beaming down through the slats.

“Yes,” Keith said hoarsely, with something approaching respect.

Lance placed the last board over Keith, completely blocking his view. “I’ll be right back,” he said. The thin boards muffled his voice, making him sound very far away. Keith waited in the darkness. A few moments later, he heard someone sloshing through the snow and knew that Lance was back. He drew a deep, relieved breath. He had no problem with dark, enclosed places, but he found the silence unnerving.

“Okay if I come in there?” asked Lance. “I’m freezing.”

“It’s _your_ bunny hutch.”

“Don’t insult Fort Cahill.” Lance squeezed in beside Keith on his uninjured side, amazingly without jolting the sled or collapsing their rather flimsy shelter. “Hmm. I’d tell you to budge over, but I guess you can’t. I’ll just have to suck in my breath. I mean, I’m thin, but… Oh, man, wish I had more than a piece of wood to lie on. This is not good for the leather.”

“Leather?” Keith grunted as Lance arranged himself. “What happened to your other jacket?”

“Tied it to the stable,” Lance said, finally settling. “It’s red. Anyone who comes looking for us’ll spot it a ways away. So,” he went on brightly, “what are we going to do while we wait for Sven to come and save us?”

“We haven’t picked a character for Sven yet.”

“Oh, right. Jeez, I don’t know. But his sister could be Leia,” he said dreamily.

“Remember what Sven said about his sister and your neck.”

“Yeah, yeah. But wait until he sees how well we hit it off. All thoughts of murder will vanish like… You know, Keith, I’ve often wondered – what’s Maria like?”

“What do you mean?” Keith asked warily.

“You know. What’s she _like_? Is she all serious, like you, or does she give you, I don’t know, balance? Does she know how to have fun, is what I’m saying.”

“Shut up.”

“Come on, humor me.”

“No, Lance. I’m not talking about my girlfriend with you.”

“Fine.”

Silence. After a minute or two, Keith decided that he didn’t like it, so he said, reluctantly, “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“I see lots of girls,” Lance replied promptly.

“I’m sure you do. Anyone special?”

“They’re all special in their way,” said Lance philosophically. “None of them’s the one, though.” 

“There’ll be a _one_?” Keith lifted a dubious eyebrow.

He expected Lance to make another joke about Sven’s beautiful younger sister. To his surprise, Lance said with confidence, “Oh, sure. Eventually.” But then he added, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have lots of fun looking for her!”

“I’m not talking romance with _you_ , anymore.”

There was a long silence. Then Lance began to sing softly:

_Oh, Katherine, take my hand_  
I’ve got three pounds and change  
And I’ll sing you songs of love again  
And when I get too drunk to sing  
We’ll walk in the Irish rain… 

“My dad used to sing that to mom,” he explained. “Helped that her name actually was Katherine. He also knew some good, dirty limericks. In the garden of Eden lay Adam…”

Keith tried to brace himself mentally.

_…Contentedly stroking his madam._  
And great was his mirth  
For on all of the Earth  
There were only two balls, and he had ‘em! 

He practically shouted the last line, and if he’d had room for a grand flourish, Keith was sure he’d have made one.

“Brilliant,” Keith said dryly.

“Well, Keith. We’ve discussed cinema, women, and poetry. What should we talk about now?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I do have a question for you, Cahill. Your main hobby is flouting authority. What in the world are you doing at the Academy?”

“My main hobby in flouting authority?” Lance repeated slowly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. That’s a good question, though, with an interesting answer. Actually, I was conscripted.”

“You don’t get conscripted for the Academy. You get recruited. You apply.”

“I did.” On the surface, he sounded proud of the idea, but there was an underlying edge to his tone that caught Keith’s curiosity. “Umm, well – you know I grew up in New York. Not the easiest place to grow up if you have no money, no family, and no connections. The Academy offered me an out and I took it.”

“So they recruited you.”

“Nah, it was more like – someone saw me flying one day. I had a kind of delivery service going, back then. Next thing I knew, someone was saying, ‘Hey, kid! You fly good. Come to the Academy.’ They paid my way and everything, which was pretty damn decent.”

Keith decided he did not need to know what kind of delivery service Lance had been involved in. 

“So,” said Lance, “how did the pride of the Academy decide to apply? Did Marshal Graham himself show up on your doorstep one day, groveling? Were there oments—”

Keith laughed at the idea. “No, of course not.”

“No? Our hero has less than divine origins?”

“Lance…”

“Sorry. I’ll shut up. Proceed.”

Keith stared at the black ceiling. “Well, I guess I’ve always wanted to be a Space Explorer. I imagine – no, I know it had something to do with my father, Captain Kyle Hawkins.” He smiled a little, remembering. “He was everything you’d want a Space Explorer to be. Fearless, clever, loved by his crew. Unfortunately – he died when I was eight.” He waited for Lance to make a smart remark. To his surprise, Lance said nothing. “Still, he wasn’t the real reason I wanted to go to the Academy. This is going to sound kind of corny, but – what the hell. If you repeat this to anyone, I’ll tell them you sang to me. Got it?”

“Got it, Captain,” Lance said solemnly. 

“Well, did you know that the archaic word for Space Explorer is ‘astronaut’? Literally, ‘star sailor.’ I just thought that was so beautiful when I was a kid. Still do, actually. Mom had a summerhouse on the coast of northern California and I used to watch the ships coming in. The sailors were from all over the world and they brought things with them from the places they’d been to. Mom didn’t really like me hanging around the docks because she thought they were dirty, but I was in heaven. That was actually the first thing I wanted to be – a ship’s captain. The ocean kind.”

“How did you get out of the water? Your mom? Oh, wait. Your dad?”

“Yeah. I would sit on the docks almost all summer, sometimes help the sailors unload their cargo. They were good to me. I guess they thought I was cute.”

“Awww.”

“Heh. And they knew my mother would kill them if I so much as got my shoes wet. Anyway, they told me all about where they’d been, what they’d seen. Some of their stories were pretty fantastic. This one captain I really admired – he had long, messy hair that I thought was just the coolest – he told me once that he’d seen a mermaid, and she’d helped him find buried treasure.” He grinned again. “I was pretty young, but I knew he was teasing me. But I thought about ocean sailors and star sailors, and I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful to do what those guys did – but among the stars? To go from planet to planet, like going from shore to shore, seeing and learning, meeting, exploring… So I applied as soon as I was old enough. And here I am. See? No divine origins.” He laughed, expecting Lance to do the same. 

Instead, Lance said, “How did your dad die?”

Keith stopped laughing abruptly and frowned. “Oh. Dad died in battle – fighting the Druls, near Regor.”

“Oh. You were eight, you said?”

“Yeah – oh. Lance, are both of your parents dead?” he asked, hesitantly. He’d caught Lance’s use of the past tense when he’d described his mother.

“I wouldn’t be here if they weren’t,” Lance said softly.

“Where would you be?”

“Murdoch Station, probably. Learning mining or engineering like everyone else there. Or maybe I’d’ve gotten off and gone somewhere else. I don’t know. My parents talked about leaving sometimes, but I don’t know if they ever would’ve. They never had much money, and I think they kind of liked being away from civilization. They’d both’ve popped a vein if they’d ever learned I went to New York.”

Keith looked at Lance out of the corner of his eye. He’d grown accustomed to the dark by that point and, squinting, he could just make out Lance’s face. Lance’s expression was blank, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Keith asked faintly, “How did your parents die?”

Lance snorted. “They were on Murdoch Station.”

“What does…?”

“ _Murdoch_ Station. In the Altair System.”

“Oh. I see,” said Keith, still not sure that he did. “I never knew that.”

“Of course you didn’t know that. Nobody knows that, except Garrison officials, and even they don’t like to acknowledge it.” Now he sounded angry. “The Altair System was full of lazon. How could anyone resist? So what if it was dangerously close to Drul territory? A small mining station – who’d notice? There hadn’t been any Drul activity in the system for years.”

“The Druls returned and attacked Murdoch Station?”

“Not quite. It wasn’t the Druls, plural. It was _one _Drul: some pirate called Zarkon. He was in exile. He wasn’t following anyone’s orders. He just … did it. I don’t know why. Some day, though. I swear, Keith, I’m gonna find that sonofabitch, and right after he tells me _why_ , I’m gonna—” __

__“How did you escape?”_ _

__“Well, he didn’t take the station completely by surprise. I mean, we weren’t idiots. We were always watching for enemy ships. We just never figured there’d only be _one_. He got under the radar. But, I mean, we were prepared – sort of. We had defenses, and we had these bunkers. My dad got me and my mom to one of them. They found us – Galaxy Garrison, I mean – maybe a week after the attack. By then Zarkon was long gone. He killed or enslaved pretty much everyone who couldn’t find a place to hide.” _ _

__“But what about your mother?”_ _

__“She was hurt in an explosion. Dad actually had to carry her to the bunker. He thought he’d get to come back for her, but … no one did. She was really badly hurt and I didn’t know what to do. I tried to help, but…” His sigh was so heavy, Keith closed his own eyes in pain._ _

__When he opened them again, he was surprised to find them full of tears. “God, Lance. I’m sorry.”_ _

__“S’not your fault.”_ _

__“I know, but… I’m really, really sorry.” He wished he could turn his head so he could see Lance. The distance between them suddenly seemed vast. He wanted to do something. Lance had probably saved his life by getting him out of the snow. Now his savior needed saving, and he felt completely useless. “Lance?”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__“Lance … come here.”_ _

__Lance looked at him, clearly puzzled. Even in the darkness, his eyes seemed bright. “Huh?”_ _

__“Get over here. My arms fine. Come here.” It hurt, but he lifted his arm._ _

__Still frowning, Lance hitched closer to Keith’s side. Keith reached out, caught Lance by the hair, and brought his head down against his chest._ _

__“Dunno why I told you all that, but I guess I wanted you to know.” Lance sniffled into Sven’s coat._ _

__“Go ahead. We won’t tell Sven. It’s all right,” Keith said with a grin. Lance lifted his head and glared. He arched a thin eyebrow._ _

__“Are we going to be friends now, or something?”_ _

__“We weren’t before?”_ _

__“I don’t know.”_ _

__“I think we sort of have to be after all this,” said Keith._ _

__Lance’s grave expression softened. “Um, that’s all right with me.” He lowered his cheek back to Keith’s chest. “You sure I’m not hurting you?”_ _

__“I’m practically numb; don’t worry about it.”_ _

__“Just don’t cop a feel or anything. You’re cute and all, but—”_ _

__“Lance, not with a ten-foot pole.”_ _

__Lance chuckled. “Now that’s the Keith I know.” He heaved a gusty sigh. “I’m sorry I sort of kidnapped you, before.”_ _

__“You’re forgiven.”_ _

__“And, um, I’m sorry about your paper.”_ _

__Keith sighed. There was a beat, then— “You’re still forgiven.”_ _

__“Sven has your book. Don’t choke.”_ _

__“You guys are both going to get it. Who else was involved in this little scheme?”_ _

__“Well, Aiko, obviously. Also, your girlfriend, Jeff, Cliff…”_ _

__“Good lord. Was anyone _not_ in on this?”_ _

__“Not really,” Lance admitted. “Come on, we had to get you out of that dorm and have a little fun, somehow. And I have to say, mission accomplished.”_ _

__“Mission accomplished! Lance, if this was a successful mission, I’d hate to see your definition of a failure. You almost got me killed. I have no idea if Sven made it back to the dorms at all. I’ll never finish my paper, and tomorrow everyone is going to know why I can’t give my presentation. All I can say is – you are very lucky I’m down for the count, because if I weren’t—” He tried to sound threatening, but he had to laugh. He shook Lance’s hair gently. “I guess I should also say – thank you for saving my life. You called me captain. Well, you’re my lieutenant. Ensign, I guess. You don’t get to jump rank that quickly. Ensign Lance Cahill: a good man to have in an emergency, especially the ones he causes.”_ _

__

__When Sven, Maria, Jeff, and the others found them a short while later, Lance was drowsily trying to teach Keith his repertoire of dirty limericks. When Lance pulled away the roof of their fort, Keith blinked up at him and drawled, “My book, Mister Eriksson?” While Sven spluttered accusingly at Lance, Keith arched an eyebrow and gave a single flick of his wrist. “Ensign,” he directed._ _

__“Yes, sir!” Lance saluted smartly and then lobbed a snowball at Sven’s head._ _

__Maria and her fellow Med track students brought Keith to the infirmary, where they set his broken leg and put his neck in a brace. “We’ll have you on your feet in no time,” Maria promised Keith, kissing his cheek. And indeed they did._ _

__The paper did not get finished that night, as Keith spent the night in the infirmary. But that proved to be no problem at all. Aiko, the Bio major, had the keys to the bio lab. When instructors plodded through the snow the next morning, they found several Andromedan stinkworms missing from their terrariums – and an extraordinarily repugnant smell emanating through every hallway in the humanities quadrangle. And so, classes were canceled for that day, and for several following._ _

__Jeff did not get into trouble for borrowing the snowmobile. Keith threatened to turn him in if he didn’t promise to stay out of mischief in the future. Jeff’s promise lasted for about a week, but by then Keith had forgiven him for his part in the misadventure too._ _

__Thanks to his coatless foray through the snow, Sven came down with a cold, which required bed rest, and Aiko’s very tender ministrations._ _

__Lance and Keith were sworn brothers from then on. When Sven recovered enough to rejoin his friends, Jeff began calling them the New Triumvirate. Lance said laughingly that it could have been worse. “He could’ve called us the Three Stooges.”_ _

__“Please don’t give him ideas,” said Sven._ _

__And Keith vowed that whatever command he was given in the future, he would see to it that Lance Cahill was on his team._ _

__

__Originally written in May 2000. Revised 10/9/2013_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been interesting, revising this story. While I haven't given Voltron a _lot_ of thought in the past thirteen years, I was aware, while I edited, of how much my interpretation of the characters - Keith in particular - has shifted. I _did_ like him while I was writing this! I swear! I think I was a little hard on him because I was responding to fandom's perception of him as the flawless hero leader guy. (And it's entirely possible that my perception of fandom's perception was wrong.) I like him more these days, maybe because I've matured; I can appreciate his maturity more. But I'm still a Lance girl. :) (Though Sven was my first love.)


End file.
